Deaprtures by Hopper

Saturday, April 18, 2009

Travel home day. Simeon does not prefer to hug, but I always like to try, anyway. He usually capitulates, and grunts something in some ancient tongue while slapping my back too hard and squeezing my hand until all my knuckles crack.

My experience with the Air Sunshine desk at the BVI airport was interesting. The woman behind the counter told me that my 12:30 flight was now leaving at 11:30. “OK”. I said. And we would be stopping at Virgin Gorda. OK. And she did not have change for my $20 bill for the $5 airport fee. OK. And she could not find her pen to write me a receipt for the $5 charge that she did not have change for, anyway. Fine. Off to the waiting area. Same woman leads us outside at 11:25. Wait here. OK. 12:00 I wake up, having fallen asleep propped against a concrete pier in a Dramamine induced lala land. 12:30 we board the tiny plane, do not stop at Virgin Gorda, and make it to San Juan with no further incident.

I arrive in my driveway at 1:00 a.m., having stepped off Promenade 14 hours earlier. Kiss the kids, Cortney, then stare at the ceiling for an hour thinking about what a great trip this was. Have I found my calling?